


Crash

by Decaykid



Category: All New X-Factor, Marvel, Uncanny Avengers
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Incest, Sibling Incest, Twincest, maxicest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 12:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2581427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Decaykid/pseuds/Decaykid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the sort of reception she's used to when she walks into a room: pressed lips, cold steely eyes, careful distance, arms crossed, she just never expected it from her brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crash

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Twins belong to Marvel. I do not claim any ownership nor do I profit from this story.

_Just crash, fall down_   
_I'll wrap my arms around you now_   
_Just crash, it's our turn now_   
_To make this work second time around_

 

It's the sort of reception she's used to when she walks into a room: pressed lips, cold steely eyes, careful distance, arms crossed, she just never expected it from her brother. He has every reason for it, she supposes. She did leave him behind after The Incident. They may be twins, two halves of everything, but things became too hard for her then. She became overwhelmed and left everything and everyone behind.

She heard he'd searched for her afterwards. Went all over the world searching for his other half. Of course she finally turned up, but she never bothered to smooth things over with her twin. It'd always been on the back of her mind. And now that she's faced with the reality, no longer able to put it off, it twists her stomach in knots. Watching from the other side of the room as their half sister Lorna reaches out, giving Pietro's hand a gentle squeeze, realizing how distant they've become, leaves a sour taste in her mouth.

Her thoughts must be written on her face, as Gambit moves to give her a quick, awkward embrace.

"It's nice ta have yeah chère. Rogue aint da only one who 'preciates it ya know?"

Mention of her comrade and current situation is enough to pull her from her thoughts. She gives a grave nod and mumbles dumbly.

"Yes, of course."

Grateful for the distraction, as twisted as it may be, she allows Gambit to lead her to the next room, giving a casual glance over her shoulder at her siblings, a strange forlorn feeling settling in her chest. Outside a front moves in, ushering in ominous gray clouds from behind.

A thunder slowly rolls as the two begin to talk. The conversation with Gambit isn't terribly unpleasant. They start off discussing Rogue, with Wanda explaining the entire situation as best she can. After that Gambit offers her some wine, and things become more relaxed. They discuss things about their current teams and how they came to be. Wanda is curious about X-Factor and the runnings of a corporate team. While enjoying the light conversation Wanda keeps a careful eye on the time and the wine. She's heard all about the thief and his way with the ladies. Although Gambit is easy on the eyes and certainly interesting, she doesn't particularly feel like going down that road. Not now anyways. Languidly stretching, she lets out a dainty yawn.

"Well Mr. Lebeau. I've certainly enjoyed myself, however I should go off to bed. I think the traveling has finally caught up to me."

"Yeah, o' course." He begins to stand with her, but she quickly waves her hand, dismissing him.

"Don't be silly. There's no need to trouble yourself, I can find my own way." She sways a bit as she stands, she must've had more to drink than she realized. Gambit gives her a polite, but skeptical look.

"Ya sure ya okay?"

She giggles in response, though whether from him or the effects of alcohol, she wasn't sure.

"I'm fine. Mr. Lebeau."

"Please. Call me Remy."

She carefully makes her way to the hall, looking before each step. When she glances over her shoulder, Gambit is still looking at her doubtfully.

"Good night, Remy."

She finds it easier to walk down the hall, the bit of exercise clearing her mind. She squints, struggling to see in the dark between flashes of lightening as peers at the room number on each door she passes until she's certain she's found the one she's looking for. She hesitates a bit but the wine prevents any real nerves from setting in, keeps better judgement at bay. It fills her with a false sense of security, blankets her in confidence. She pushes the door open without a second thought. He seems as surprised to see her and she is him, for a moment she wonders what he's doing awake at this hour, but then those eyes become guarded and she's reminded why she's here.

"Pietro."

"You've been drinking." She thinks there's something behind his voice. Caution. Or maybe she imagined it.

"We need to talk."

For once in their life Pietro doesn't say anything. He looks away, though, drawing his arms over his chest. She knows he wants to be anywhere but there. Well, that makes two of them. Unsure where to begin, she fidgets with her glove, all her former bravado quickly fading. The silence stretches on, save for the occasional clap of thunder, leaving an awkward presence in its wake. At least until a small huff comes from the other side of the room.

"You've nothing to say?"

She looks up startled, and regrets it. His expression is even more accusatory than his words.

"No, Pietro.... I-" she fumbles, hand outstretched in her lap as though she could grab onto words. He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose; a move so like their father it unnerves her.

"Why are you here Wanda?" His face is calm, his eyes a maelstrom. She ignores it though, instead thankful for a question she can answer though a bit disappointed it's not in the direction she'd intended.

"I'm here with Rogue to help her wi-"

"Not that!!" He sighs again, eyes closing. Wanda watches, stiffens. When he opens them again, he looks completely and utterly defeated.

"I mean why are you here."

She blinks, trying to work through the fuzz of her mind. Doesn't he understand why she's here?

"Pietro..."

"Stop patronizing me, woman!"

Heat surges from the pit of her stomach, rising up through her neck to her face. She blinks, causing a few stray tears to roll down her flushed cheeks.

"How dare yo-"

"How dare you!!" He counters, raising to his feet. "Did Alex send you here to try to recruit me? Or maybe it was Cap. wanting to know what's going on in a corporate team? Or perhaps you're working for S.H.I.E.L.D. now?" She barely had time to react before he went on. "Or you're just here because you felt sorry. You heard all about Avengers Academy. Or, better yet, you heard my little speech on live television."

Her hands shake at her side, mouth opened poised to speak, then something clicks.

"You don't think I've come of my own accord?"

"I-!! ...What?"

They may of spent the last several years apart, but he must've known what she was about to say, based off his expression.

"Pietro, no one sent me here. I came, because I wanted to. Yes in part to Rogue, but also to... to see you."

"To see me? Why?"

She closes her eyes, takes a moment to compose herself. It seems to have the opposite effect, she feels the warm tears threatening to explode.

"Oh Pietro," she draws in a deep breath, straightens her shoulders and risks opening her eyes.

"N-Nothing's the same Pietro." Her lip quivers but she forces herself to continue. "I thought if-f I went back the Av-vengers... they're f-family. They'd understand... because s-second chances-s..." she falls apart, over come with emotions she's been holding back for years. Her hands clench into tight fists, her nails digging into the leathery layers. She stands there sobbing, hating herself for crying, for being unable to properly communicate what she so desperately needs to say. He's there in an instant, warm, strong arms wrapping reassuringly around her. She collapses into him, muffled sobs wracking her body.

"It's the same no matter where I go!" she explains between cries. "Av-venger o-or M-Mutant. They all look at me... like a m-monster!!" She suddenly finds herself in his lap, arms still wrapped around her. His cheek is pressed against her hair, his mouth mere inches from her ear, whispering soothingly in their native tongue. She moves her face into the crook of his neck, trying desperately to regain control of herself.

"I hav-ve no one Pietro. Not V-Vision or S-Stev-ve or S S-Simon." She tries her best to swallow back a few hiccups. "I don't even see the boys." She pulls away, wiping away tears, only for more to fall. Pietro moves a hand to cradle the back of her head.

"Don't try to fight it, Wanda. It's okay to let go. I'm here for you. I'm here now. You're not alone anymore."

With that she comes unglued again and Pietro once again pulls her into his embrace. She has no idea how long she cries. Hours, minutes, days. But her brother holds her until she cries herself out, until hollow little hiccups move through her tired, empty body.

"Wanda, love, I'm sorry," Pietro says, shifting so that he can see her face. "I never meant for you to think I didn't want to see you. It's just that... well," he looks around before his eyes meet hers again. "Well it's just... you left me. And I thought... well, if you ever wanted me in your life again that you'd be the one to reach out to me."

"Pietro," she startles, "I-" he places a finger to her lips. "Say what you want, but I know I fucked up. I made you do things I should've never asked you to do. I understand that you had to leave me. I hurt you, and I used you and I shouldn't have. I'm your brother, dammit. I'm supposed to protect you, not... not take advantage of you!!"

Wanda can feel him shaking beneath her. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulls him in for a hug, but he doesn't cry, doesn't show he's upset save for the trembling and the glassy look to his eyes.

"Pietro, it wasn't your fault." He shook his head once, determined. He wasn't going to listen.

"You needed help. And I was selfish. I... I should of taken you somewhere. Somewhere safe, somewhere... away from the clutches of father. I should of gotten you help. But I was selfish. And arrogant. And scared. Dammit I was so scared for you, Wanda." He shivers again, draws in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry Wanda. If I could take it back, I would. It's bad enough I ruined my own life, but now you've had to suffer for my mistakes. For my ignorance."

"Pietro, don't say that!"

"Who's fault was it then? It's not like you would've come up with that all in your own, you were more than happy to let them take you off and slaughter you like some animal."

His hands tighten protectively around her.

"No. I wouldn't make the same choices again. But I sure as hell wouldn't let them take you."

Wanda sniffs, wondering how she even has tears to shed.

"All this time I thought you were mad at me for getting you caught up in my own personal drama, and then for leaving you. When I came back I.... I was worried I did enough damage. So I just... stayed away."

The corners of Pietro's mouth turn up, and Wanda smiles in turn. Her leather clad fingers reach out to trace his lips, wondering how many people have seen him smile. Not many she supposes. When her fingers meet his mouth, he gently kisses the tips.

He starts about apologies and misunderstanding but Wanda's not listening. Whether it's the alcohol or being emotionally spent, she seems to only be able to focus on the minimal things. Like his hands on her. They've come to rest on her hips, to keep her from falling over, no doubt. She wonders if he's aware. Her eyes focus on the sharp line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone, back down to his neck, all of which is covered in the bright yellow of his X-Factor uniform. Pietro's fingers work through her hair, gently caressing the cascading brown curls.

A loud clap of thunder seems to spark something between the two. Wanda has no idea when her brother quit talking, despite her eyes being trained on his lips. Mesmerized, she leans in, eyes slipping close... and flutter open as lightening flashes, throwing the room into odd shadows, followed by a too-loud crackle, then everything in pitched into darkness.

"Seems the electricity has gone out."

"I've got it." Finding a few matches and a candle in a dark, unfamiliar room is impossible, but that's never stopped Wanda. A few minutes pass before the room is illuminated by the soft glow of the candle, the lightening now shut out by the closed drapes.

"Um, Pietro?"

"Yes?"

"Would you mind if I stay here for the night. I think I'd feel much safer."

He lets out an amused huff, the closest thing she's heard to a laugh from him in years. He moves over in bed and pats the empty space beside him. She smiles before crossing the room and settling in beside him. She abandons the space and the pillows to rest her head on his shoulder and curls herself into his side and he draws his arm around her, she can't help but think this is what coming home feels like.

She closes her eyes, listening to the pitter patter of rain against the windows, and Pietro's even breathing, but it does nothing to sooth her mind and allow her to sleep. Instead, all her mind can focus on is the warmth between her and Pietro. A warmth that seems to be steadily building. She doesn't pull away from the heat, but pulls herself closer, draps an arm across Peitro, her hand idly moving about.

"Mhm. That tickles," Pietro says accusingly. Wanda, pleased to find him awake, shifts on the bed to prop herself up on is chest, her eyes meeting his. He raises an eyebrow but says nothing when she reaches out and places a hand on the side of his face, as though he may disappear at any moment.

"I've missed this." She confesses softly, fearing her words may of gotten lost in the noise outside.

"Me too."

Her leather clad thumb strokes the sharp curve of his cheekbone. Wanda moves before she realizes what she's doing, her lips touch his, eager but cautious. When he doesn't move away, she applies more pressure to the kiss and he surprises her by mirroring her actions. She moves her lips experimentally, savoring the feel of her brother's lips against hers. After a few moments of gentle nips and teasing flicks of her tongue, Pietro opens his mouth to her advances. Encircling his arms around her, he settles back into the bed, dragging Wanda with him. She better situates herself, relishing the feeling of being encapsulated by Pietro, as though his long arms and strong shoulders could hold her forever, keeping the world's woes at bay.

The storm outside rages on as she attacks his mouth with more vigor, a collision of teeth and tongue, no longer wanting to prob about curiously, but share this new found passion as though she can share the fire that's consuming her through touch alone. Her fingers trail through his hair, down his face and neck before returning to entangle themselves into the white wisps again. She tugs harshly and he obliges, tilting his head back but her mouth only meets the damned aerodynamic material of his outfit. However, Pietro moves to graze his lips along her jaw, neck and any other exposed areas of skin, tongue darting out and teeth trailing behind. Wanda moans her appreciation and Pietro slides a hand between them, cupping a large breast and lingering a moment before following the other contours of her body.

Wanda tugs on her clothing, she feels flushed. The heat within is consuming her like a fire but she doesn't dare run from it. The fevered pitch is enticing and she wants nothing more than to be consumed by it, for her to offer herself wholly, every square inch. A hard, solid presence beneath her pulls her from her thoughts and her body involuntarily moves, as if trying to answer his body's need. Her fingers search and fumble about, as she attempts to figure out the mechanics of his new costume. Pietro seems to have a similar problem, as his fists curl in frustration.

"I hate your outfit," he breathes, voice husky.

"Likewise," Wanda replies, not sounding much different. She sits back, her full weight now on his thighs, and the bulge between. He wastes no time unzipping his own uniform. As eager as Wanda is to get things underway, she wants to drag this out as long as possible. She reaches out, slowly peeling away the yellow and gray costume. She doesn't hesitate to run her hand across her brother's toned torso, lightly twisting a nipple before following the trail of course white hairs down his abdomen. She teasingly fingers the zipper, smiling at her handiwork. Beneath her, a disheveled Pietro looks at her from half lidded eyes, panting.

Wanda turns her hands to herself now, undoing the zipper of her own uniform. She pulls the material down over her shoulders, arching her back as her breasts bounce free from their previous confines. She shivers as the cool air greets her, nipples hardening from more than just the cold. Between her legs, she feels Pietro's cock twitch and she shivers again. Deciding she can't wait anymore, she reaches out and pulls the rest of Pietro's zipper down and pulls the troublesome clothing away. She knows she shouldn't be surprised but marvels at the white curly hairs that frame Pietro's erection. Then, ever so teasingly, she runs her finger along the underside of his shaft, appreciating its length. Shrugging out of her own clothing, and tossing it aside, she takes his hand and leads it to the damp curls between her thighs.

"You feel that Pietro?" She asks, sliding her arms around his neck. "That's because of you."

Their mouths crash together once more, the storm outside long forgotten. This time Wanda falls to the bed, pulling Pietro on top of her, spreading her legs as his weight settles over her. They both shake in anticipation for what's next. Panting turns to baited breath as he steadies his movements, aligning himself with her. Then, with a single thrust and moan of pleasure they unit as one.

The first few thrusts are experimental and after some shifting and a bit of guidance, Wanda's back is arched, body pushed flushed against his as she cries out with each movement. Their bodies move together, back and forth, back and forth, in and out, in and out, over and over again until she can't handle it anymore. She drags her nails along his back as she yells his name. Once the blood stops thrumming through her ears she realizes Pietro is still poised over her, still inside her.

"You.... you didn't...." she rasps out, but is cut off when he picks the rhythm up again. She shudders beneath him, apparently he has his own ideas for dragging this out. Feeling the ever approaching edge, she clings desperately to him. She needs something to ground her, something other than the waves of pained pleasure washing through her, something other than the fiery heat that pulses with Pietro's steady rhythm. He takes her above and beyond the last point. Takes her so high, stars burst behind her eyes and she screaming but her voice is lost in space and she's spinning, spinning as she crashes back down to earth.

A brilliant blur of colors still line the edge of her vision when he moves yet again. She's panting and shaking and burning and flying.

"No." She whispers. "No." She can't possibly go any higher. Her body betrays her, hips moving encouragingly. "No. No, ohh! Ohhhh!!!" Her voice doesn't sound her own. She feels she's left her body. "Oh god!" She cries out, voice horse. Pietro begins to slow, his body shaking from the effort, from quickly weaning self-control. Now acting on it's own, her body reacts accordingly, hips moving hard and fast, taking him in over and over, as much as she can stand.

"I-" he chokes out, "I can't..." He nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, emptying himself inside her. With a few more thrusts of her hips, Wanda soon follows.

If her last climax took her high above the Earth, this one took her her to the Afterlife. An Eternity passes before she comes to herself. Unable to move she lays there a few moments, waiting for the haze of ecstasy to clear, for her breathing and heart rate to return. She stirs again, this time realizing she can't move because Pietro's full weight is on her, having apparently collapsed. She smiles, caressing the side of his face. She wonders vaguely if he's fallen asleep, but he slowly lifts his face, dispelling those thoughts.

"You okay?" She asks, voice full of giggles as she sweeps his hair from his damp forehead.

"I think I'll survive," he replies with his usual smirk. Then, carefully removing himself from her, he collapses next to Wanda on the bed. For a few moments, the only sound that fills the room is the Twins' still rugged breathing and the distant rumble of thunder.

"Pietro?" She asks the dark uncertainly.

"Mmmm?"

Not entirely sure he's awake, she continues on anyways.

"About earlier, I-"

She's surprised by the finger he presses to her lips, and even more so when he props himself up on his elbow to peer down at her.

"Wanda? Everything is okay between us now?"

Not risking to speak, she nods in affirmation.

"Good."

She draws his head to rest between her breasts. He drapes an arm over her and she thinks of holding his hand but settles for stroking his hair instead. She lets out content sigh, closing her eyes. For the first time in years, she doesn't have to face tomorrow alone. Feeling as though the burdens of the past got left up in space somewhere, Wanda easily falls into a deep slumber, as the storm outside slowly fades away.

**Author's Note:**

> And thus concludes my first ever official fanfic. :D  
> (Inspired by Crash by You Me At Six.)


End file.
